


Head vs. Heart

by rizlowwritessortof



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Like marshmallowy sweet overload fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 22:42:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizlowwritessortof/pseuds/rizlowwritessortof
Summary: Just a li'l Dean drabble...





	Head vs. Heart

It hits you about halfway into your third beer - painful clarity like a splash of icy water in the face.

You love him.

Nothing has changed on the outside. Dean’s still telling the story he was in the middle of regaling you with when the epiphany struck. He’s laughing his way through it, and you can’t keep from smiling even though the panic is welling up inside you at your realization.

Your sensible Brain starts arguing right off the bat.  _“No. No, you don’t. You’re drinking, and laughing, and fuck, yeah, he’s an attractive guy. But that’s not LOVE. I mean, you love him, of course. But you are not IN LOVE with him.”_

Your not-so-sensible Heart folds its arms over its chest and stares right back at Brain, not giving one inch.  _“It’s love. I’m in love with this beautiful, aggravating, flirtatious, rabidly-single man, who also just happens to be one of the best friends I’ve ever had. I. Am. In. Love. With. Him. So don’t argue with me.”_

Brain stares back, jaw set.  _“Fine. Then there’s only one thing to do. Get the fuck out of Dodge. Now. Before it slips out and ruins everything. You know how you are.”_

Your pleasant buzz is ebbing away, and you’ve started getting that trapped feeling you get when you’re overwhelmed and need to escape, to be alone. Dean’s laughter trails off, and he’s looking at you, concern blooming in his eyes. “Hey, you okay?”

You smile, as well as you can manage, and try to brush it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Headache. Guess maybe I’ll have to cut this party short. Sorry.”

His brows are all bunched up, his expression tight as his eyes study you. He can read you pretty well, but you have to keep your game face on until you’re in your room. “You need some aspirin? Maybe some food?”

“Dean, we polished off a pizza not an hour ago, I’m fine. I just think I need to hit the sack a little earlier than I was planning. I’m sorry to ruin everything.”

He blows a little gust of air between his lips, waving you off. “You’re not ruining anything. Just the hangovers we were gonna have tomorrow. I should probably thank you.” He smiles, soft, and reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. Heart is now tap-dancing. “Sure you don’t need anything? Some hot tea? A full body massage?”

You huff out a shaky laugh, shoving his hand away. “Like that’s happening, Winchester. No, I don’t need anything. Just some sleep. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

You stand, and so does he. And grabs you into a hug. Perfect. Dean is always so damn affectionate when he drinks. Heart has now burst into the chorus of “I Wanna Know What Love Is.” Brain is fake-vomiting in response.

“Get some rest, sweetheart,” Dean mumbles into your hair, then drops a kiss on top of your head. You smile up at him, and some of the emotion inside of you has to be shining in your eyes, but you can only do so much.

“Thanks, I will.” You move away, and his hands are just dragging their way along like they don’t want to let you go, making it even more difficult than it already is. Damn it. “Good-night.”

You’ve just started pulling your t-shirt over your head when there’s a soft knock at your door. “You still dressed?”

Deep breath. “Yes, Dean.” The door opens slowly, and he peeks around as if he needs to make sure before he walks in and shuts the door behind him.

“I just…  I wanted to make sure…” He chews on his lip for just a second before blurting out, “Did I do something? Are you mad at me?”

He’s got that worried little boy look on his face that you couldn’t resist on your best day, and you can’t help grinning. “No. And no. You’re perfect. I just – I have a headache.”

“Just – it came on kinda sudden. I thought maybe I said something…”

“Dean. We’re golden, I promise. I just need to…”

“Go to bed, I know. But – how about we just hang out in here, watch a movie? You can rest and we can still - hang out. Or – or we could take Baby out for a drive, get some fresh air?”

You look at him, puzzled. “Dean, what’s up with you tonight?”

“Nothin’. I just – I was looking forward to having some fun with you tonight, just the two of us. We don’t get that very often. Not that it’s not cool, the three of us, just…” He sinks down to the edge of the bed, and you take a shaky breath, then walk over and sit beside him. He seems hesitant, unsure of himself, and it’s something you’ve never noticed from him before. He looks at you, his green eyes searching, and he gives you a weak little smile. “I just like being with you. And I think I’d like to be with you more. Than we usually are.”

“Dean? Are you saying…” It’s a struggle to form words, because it feels like a 600-pound weight is sitting on your chest. “Do you want us to be more? Than we usually are?” God, why is this so hard?

Relief washes over his features. “Yeah. Yeah, I think that’s what I’m sayin’. And I really wanted to tell you tonight, but if you really don’t… I mean, if you really do have a bad headache… or if you really just don’t want…”

You stare at your lap, your hands clasped together so hard your knuckles are white. “I said I had a headache because I was scared. Because I started feeling that way, and I was afraid you wouldn’t – didn’t – feel…” Suddenly his arms are around you and he’s kissing your words away, gentle and tentative at first, and your head is spinning with a mixture of bliss and disbelief.

He stops for a moment, touching his forehead to yours. “Is this okay? If you want me to go…”

“No! No, I don’t want you to go, I just…”

“Need to slow down?” Relief washes through you.

“Yeah. Maybe. Just a little? Maybe we should – go for that drive?”

“Right! Yeah. That sounds – that’s awesome. I’ll uh… I’ll grab the keys.” He looks at you, his eyes all hopeful, and smiles. And you smile back, like you could help it, because it’s like somebody opened the blinds in a dark room and let a beam of pure sunshine hit you in the face.

You climb into the Impala, settling into the passenger seat. Dean ducks his head and looks over at you with his eyebrows arched hopefully, his arm up on the back of the seat. You look at your lap, smothering your grin, and slide over next to him, settling under his arm with a happy sigh as he cranks the engine and heads out of the garage.

Brain shrugs in surrender, settling back for the ride. Heart smiles smugly and starts humming along with the radio.


End file.
